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and then the wine. The Host was light as dew on his tongue; and he allowed himself but one
thought as de Nore brought the great chalice to his lips and he reached up to lightly steady it.
Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit. May it be done according to Thy will...
"Sanguis Domini nostri Jesu Christi custodial animam tuam in vitam aeternam," de
Nore murmured. May the blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ preserve thy soul unto everlasting
life...
Barely mouthing his "Amen," Denis drank from the cup. The wine was sweet and heady,
lighter than he remembered, igniting a gentle but growing tingle that spread from his stomach,
up his spinal column, and out to the tips of his fingers and toes, to explode at the back of his
head in a starburst of warmth and light and love and it was not merasha.
Light seemed to fountain from the vessels still on the altar, from the tabernacle on the
credence shelf behind it, from the chalice de Nore carried back to the altar, and Denis sensed a
similar energy pulsing through the bodies of all those assembled to assist. Benjamin and
Melwas, kneeling reverently to either side of him, had the same glow; and the ciborium de Nore
set solemnly in his hands a few minutes later throbbed gently with a rhythm that was the
heartbeat of the universe, silvery radiance spilling from the cup to bathe his hands in light that
apparently only he could see.
He felt as if he was floating a handspan off the ground as he rose to go down to the
communion rail where his brother waited with the other members of the new priests' families to
receive the Sacrament. Indeed, he made certain he was not floating, for the way he felt his
Deryni powers not only intact but apparently enhanced he thought he could have, given even
a whit more provocation. The intimacy of the moment in which, a priest at last, he gave his
brother Holy Communion for the first time, was almost too much joy to contain, the awe and
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wonder on Jamyl's face a sight he would cherish until the day he died.
And when the king slipped in to kneel beside Jamyl, pointedly turning his face toward
Denis when de Nore would have come to claim the privilege, Denis could only marvel silently
at the sign of royal favor. To give the Sacrament to his king set yet another seal on this most
glorious and blessed day of his life.
His perceptions gradually diminished to more normal levels as he settled into ministering
to the other communicants come forward to receive, and he sensed a slight lethargy stealing
along his limbs as he neared the end, but that was surely from sheer physical fatigue and
Laran's medicines, not merasha's insidious corruption. The sedative effect was stronger than he
had expected from the one sample he'd had from Laran, but not uncomfortably so though he
did see Charles stifle a yawn, a little farther along the rail, and sensed Melwas and Argostino
fighting drowsiness, too.
Physical after-reaction threatened more insistently as he returned to the altar to surrender
his ciborium, but he was able to counteract much of it by running through a brief fatigue-
banishing spell as he knelt with his brethren to watch de Nore and Gorony consolidate the
contents of all the ciboria into one and place it in the tabernacle. Then de Nore returned to his
faldstool to kneel in meditation while Gorony performed the final ablutions the last
opportunity for something to go wrong. For if Gorony detected any difference in the taste of the
wine...
Fortunately, the nervous seminarian who came forward to pour the wine and water for
Gorony was clumsy, and the wine cruet slipped from his shaking fingers and shattered on the
marble floor before he or anyone else could prevent it. Gorony's obvious impatience was
distracted by the king choosing that moment to rise and slip quietly back up the aisle with his
attendants, to escape before the crowds began to leave, and the archbishop's chaplain simply
signalled for more wine to be brought from the sacristy by Stefan, who sternly escorted the
disgraced seminarian back into the sacristy, where Deryni persuasion undoubtedly dealt with
whatever memory he might have had of his "accident" having been commanded.
"How did you do it?" Denis was finally able to ask his brother later that night, when an
oddly tense Jamyl drew him aside for a few moments during the celebration feast, both of them
confirming with Deryni senses that they could not be overheard. "It must have been when you
brought the cruet forward at the Offertory."
Solemnly, Jamyl shook his head. "I didn't do it, Denis," he whispered. "I couldn't. They
were watching too closely. I don't know what happened, but you drank merasha and you
weren't affected."
"What?"
The king chose that moment to come up to Denis for a blessing, curtailing all further
discussion with Jamyl, but Denis pondered the implications of Jamyl's revelation for the rest of
the evening and, later that night, knelt in trembling question and thanksgiving in the now
deserted church.
Or, no, not deserted. The red lamp burning before the tabernacle reminded him of that
if ever he could have forgotten it after what had happened. And as he lifted his eyes timidly to
the Crowned King on the cross above the altar, he knew that he had experienced as much of a
miracle as any man could ever hope for and that he would spend the rest of his life trying to
serve the purpose of the One Who had spared him today.
O Lord, I am Deryni, but I am also Your child, he prayed. And though I never really
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doubted, now I truly believe You have ordained the time to bring Your other Deryni children
back into an equal partnership with the sons of humankind for You have saved me from the
wrath of men who would misuse Your Sacrament to destroy me. For this salvation, I give You
thanks.
He swallowed with difficulty and eased back on his heels, trying to still the trembling of
his clasped hands.
I think perhaps we Deryni are not really so different from other men after all, Lord, he
went on more boldly, searching the serene Face. You give us gifts the humans do not
understand and therefore fear and some among our number have, indeed, abused their gifts
in the past, and doubtless will do so in the future but so doth mankind in his frailty abuse
many other gifts not unique to the Deryni. We ask no special favor, Lord only, let us be
judged by our fellows and by You on our individual merits and failings, and not on the merits
and failings of our race.
He bowed his head and closed his eyes.
Adsum, Domine here am I, Lord. You called me in the hour of my begetting, and
today I have publicly answered that call and bound me to Your service. Nor did You forsake
me in my hour of need. Give me wisdom and strength, Lord, to know Your will and to do it as
best / can, that I may always be Your true priest and servant, ministering to all Your
children, both human and Deryni, with tolerance, compassion, and love... That IS why You
saved me isn't it?
In days to come, whenever he returned to the memory of that jumbled monologue with
God, he would never be really certain whether his imagination had gotten the better of him, or
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